


Family is What You Make of It

by Audrey_Lynne



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Backstory, Darkwing Dad, Darkwing Duck - Freeform, Drakepad if you squint, Family, Family Fluff, Gen, Himbo Launchpad McQuack, Parent Launchpad McQuack, Post-Episode: s03e12 Let's Get Dangerous!, Uncle Launchpad is the best, but I do totally ship it, they're not there yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27240283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audrey_Lynne/pseuds/Audrey_Lynne
Summary: Thaddeus Waddlemeyer was both a brilliant scientist and a devoted family man.  He made many friends over the course of his career, including Bentina Beakley.When the Solego circuit is finally cracked and villains from a TV show run amok in St. Canard, Beakley knows her old friend must be involved.  Fortunately, so were Launchpad McQuack and Drake Mallard.  And if their new little family needs a bit of guidance, Beakley's happy to lend a hand.(Also featuring some backstory for our favorite spy grandma, because this is me we're talking about.)
Relationships: Bentina Beakley & Launchpad McQuack, Drake Mallard & Gosalyn Mallard & Launchpad McQuack, Gosalyn Mallard & Professor Waddlemeyer
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	Family is What You Make of It

**Author's Note:**

> I know that, technically, Gosalyn's not a Mallard yet, but those are the established tags on here, and I believe she will be someday.
> 
> I've been on a writing kick this week on my days off; I'm rarely this productive, but I might as well make it work for me while my muse is doing what her thing. It's mostly thanks to these excellent episodes we've been blessed with lately! Thanks, as always, to my tumblr crew; y'all continue to enable me whether you realize it or not.

* * *

“Mama, do you have to go?”

If anything could have stopped Bentina Beakley from walking out the door, it would have been that. She scooped her five-year-old daughter into her arms, kissing her on the forehead. “I’m sorry, darling, but I do.” She brushed Eliza’s hair away from her face, holding her close. She could afford a few extra minutes for an extended goodbye. “But Mr. McDuck’s going to take good care of you, and you’ll have lots of fun with Della and Donald. You’ll barely know I’m gone.”

Eliza pouted. “I will too.”

Ah, the stubborn honestly of children. Beakley laughed. “I’ll call when I can. I promise.” She cupped Eliza’s cheek in her hand, trying to pretend this wasn’t as hard for her as it was for her little girl. After her husband had been killed, she’d asked Director VonDrake not to send her anywhere she’d be gone longer than overnight for at least a few months, unless the fate of world was literally at stake. She and her daughter both needed time to heal, to find their footing in the world. Eliza had been understandably clingy since losing her father. Now, six months on, she was needed in Belgrade, and while there was no one she trusted to watch Eliza more than Scrooge McDuck (and Duckworth, of course), it didn’t make leaving any easier. She kissed Eliza’s forehead once more before setting her down and kneeling in front of her for a hug. “Remember what I told you, all right?” Whenever she’d had to go away before, she always reminded Eliza that no matter where either of them was in the world, they’d both be looking up at the same moon at night.

Eliza nodded, not pulling out of her mother’s arms. “But what if it’s too cloudy to see the moon?”

“I’ll still know you’re thinking of me,” Beakley promised. “And I’ll be thinking of you.” She stood, however reluctantly. It really was time to get going. “Be good. I love you.”

* * *

After checking into her hotel, Beakley had wandered out to see some of the sights – all the better to maintain her cover as a Romanian novelist doing research. Besides, she was meeting the scientist she was supposed to coordinate with at a nearby botanical garden. For security purposes, she’d only been given his code name, but odds were good she knew him. Her husband had been part of S.H.U.S.H.’s research team, and so she’d spent a lot of her free time in the labs. The team wasn’t that big, given the agency’s size – as a scientist himself, VonDrake tended to be very picky about who he brought on board – and not all of those on it were skilled in theoretical physics.

Glancing at her watch as she waited on a bench in the garden, Beakley calculated the time difference between Belgrade and Duckburg. Eliza would probably be having breakfast with the twins; hopefully, she could find a secure line and call to check in after this meeting.

“Ms. Rizea?”

Beakley turned her head, smiling as she saw who was joining her; he was definitely a welcome liaison for this assignment. “You must be Dr. Varner.”

Thaddeus Waddlemeyer grinned as he sat down beside her, extending his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m a big fan of your work.”

Beakley shook his hand, chuckling demurely. “I’m flattered that a scientist of your stature would have read anything of mine.”

After getting the small talk was out of the way, he invited her to join him for coffee at a small café on the outskirts of town. Of course, the café was a front for the S.H.U.S.H. lab under it, but they apparently had amazing pastries, so taking the time to keep up appearances was hardly a chore. Once they were in the lab, however, they could finally drop the pretenses, and Beakley smiled as she accepted the hug he was quick to offer. “It’s good to see you again, Thad.”

“Believe me, the feeling’s mutual.” Waddlemeyer returned the smile, though it faded after a moment. “I’m so sorry about Phillip. How have you and Eliza been?”

“Thank you.” Beakley had, frankly, begun to tire of everyone’s well-meaning sympathies; in time, that would probably change, but her heart was still raw and it felt like the universe was rubbing her face in her loss. It was different coming from him, though. Not only had he and Phillip been good friends, Waddlemeyer was a widower with a child, himself. He might not have understood exactly how she felt, but he had an unenviable perspective on the matter. “We’re managing. There are more good days than bad.”

Waddlemeyer nodded knowingly, his expression warm and sympathetic. “That’s the goal. All you can do is take it one day at a time.”

Beakley inclined her head, acknowledging his point, before moving on to a more cheerful subject. “And how are you and Christopher?”

“Oh, great…just great. He’s growing like a weed!” Waddlemeyer grinned, every bit the proud father. “I can’t believe he’s nine now.” 

Beakley smiled. “I don’t suppose we’ll have time to call home after the briefing?”

Waddlemeyer laughed. “After? I say we do it now. I’m the one running the thing and you’re currently my only guest, so…” He shrugged. “It’s not like those goons from F.O.W.L. are going to be any closer to cracking Solego’s code ten minutes from now. Even _our_ people are still a at least a decade away from it…unfortunately.”

“Ah, yes,” she agreed, following him as he led her to his office, “but is there any chance they’ll manage to access those pocket dimensions without it?”

He shrugged. “Never say never, but…the odds are so low they’re not worth calculating. With any luck, they’ll phase themselves out of existence trying and we won’t have to lift a finger.”

Luck. Now there was something Beakley had never counted on. “I don’t believe in luck.”

Waddlemeyer favored her with a smile. “You never did, Bentina.”

* * *

Thirty-plus years later, Beakley had come to accept that luck probably existed in some form, as a fickle mystical entity…but like the majority of mystical entities, it was absolutely not to be relied upon. She’d retired from the espionage world, but it wasn’t as if she didn’t have her hands full. Beyond the day-to-day work of keeping the house clean and the children out of trouble (a never-ending task), there were the adventures and everything else that came along with living in the same world as Scrooge McDuck. And now F.O.W.L. was back, something that terrified Beakley to her core, if she was honest. She’d lost too much to them, and now they were threatening her family again. They’d prepare, and Scrooge was calling up his top minds, ready to get them to work on a new security system. She was designing a training program for the children, to get them in fighting shape and looking for danger at every turn. It might have been intense, but when it came to F.O.W.L., there was no such thing as being over-prepared. They didn’t play fair.

Scrooge, Launchpad, and the boys were still on their way home from St. Canard, but he’d called her from the limo to apprise her of the situation. Webby was sitting beside her, making her own list of “top ten best traps,” and some of them would indeed be useful. Meanwhile, Donald and Della were, in a rare moment of cooperation, prowling around the mansion, looking for obvious flaws in the current security system. This family knew how to deal with trouble.

Beakley had to lock Donald and Della in a room – literally – in order to keep them from storming St. Canard once the news broke that Scrooge and the triplets were missing. She understood, certainly, and was working on a rescue plan herself, just in case. But running off on pure adrenaline and half a plan wouldn’t help anyone. And, fortunately, they had come through just fine…thanks to an unlikely superhero.

The Darkwing Duck TV series had become something of a guilty pleasure since Launchpad had introduced her to it. There was something to be said for the plucky hero that kept getting up in the face of impossible odds, and she could see why Launchpad – and his friend Drake Mallard – had been drawn to it. Then Drake had decided to _actually_ become Darkwing Duck. When Launchpad had mentioned that, Beakley had been concerned. Drake seemed to be nice enough, and certainly passionate, but he was an actor with no training. Real-life criminals didn’t follow the rules of television and there were no commercial breaks. Good people could get hurt quickly pulling vigilante moves. When the Moonvasion came, though, they needed all available hands, and if Drake wanted to wear the costume while he joined the fight, why stop him? It had come in handy, in the end. 

When Drake moved to St. Canard to truly establish himself, Beakley had kept an eye on him through Launchpad. She’d also been keeping an eye on St. Canard’s crime rates, which had plummeted since Mayor Owlson had taken office. Drake seemed to be safe enough, living out his fantasy, and Beakley’s attention had turned elsewhere…until the Fearsome Four walked out of the TV series and into the streets of St. Canard.

Had Beakley not known of the television show, she might have been willing to let Donald and Della rush into the city. Against all odds, though, somehow these over-the-top villains had been unleashed on their reality, and she knew that they weren’t likely to play by the rules of it. They couldn’t risk having the twins end up in over their heads, too, and as much as she worried for Launchpad and Drake, the two biggest fans of Darkwing Duck on the planet might well have been the only ones who had the knowledge to put up a proper fight. As they apparently had. 

The nature of the situation, though, had Beakley’s mind occupied. Those weren’t actors in costumes, those were _the_ Darkwing villains. As if the show did indeed exist in a parallel reality. She wasn’t a scientist, but she’d spent enough time around them in her career to know there was only one viable way to open a portal like that. _Someone must have finally cracked Solego’s circuit._ And as frightening as it was that the information might have fallen into the wrong hands given the breach, it hadn’t been a F.O.W.L. scientist who made the initial collection. She was about to call Scrooge back to ask more questions when he walked through the door.

Once the family had been reunited and everyone had been settled in, Scrooge was off to the Bin to rendezvous with Gyro and Quackfaster. Beakley set aside her own plans, knowing she’d done all she could until they proceeded to the actual training session. Webby was still with the boys, listening as they recounted their adventure, and so Beakley went to find Launchpad. He was throwing a handful of belongings into a Darkwing-branded backpack. She had her guesses as to why. “Heading back so soon?”

Lauchpad glanced at her. “Yeah, I mean…Drake’s gonna need help, and I still have the uncle list to take care of, and…I mean, I’m gonna still be around here, count on it, but also there, and—”

Beakley held up a hand. She was used to his ramblings by now. “I’m certainly not here to stop you. I just…had a few questions about what happened.”

“Oh!” Launchpad brightened. “Oh, man, Mrs. B., you’d have _loved_ it. Drake _was_ Darkwing. Like, we had the villains and everything – which was pretty scary, actually, but, wow, so real. I even dressed up as Jambalaya Jake, and Gosalyn was the Bug Master – I wanted her to be Isis Vanderchill, actually, but the Bug Master costume was the only one that fit her, and – ”

Gosalyn. As Beakley mentally caught up with his story, _that_ was the connection she’d been looking for. “Gosalyn. Her last name wouldn’t be Waddlemeyer, by any chance?”

Launchpad paused, blinking at her. “Yeah, it is. How did you know?”

“Her grandfather’s an old friend of mine.” Beakley had suspected he’d be involved once she’d realized the Solego circuit must be. It had been his life’s work. “It _was_ the Solego circuit, then, wasn’t it?”

Launchpad nodded, but his excitement had faded a bit, and Beakley began to worry not all of this story had a happy ending. “Yeah, that sounds like what Huey said, but…um, Gosalyn’s grandpa, he…I mean, he’s probably not dead, but Bulba blasted him with that thing, so he’s not… _here_. Gos had to destroy it before it destroyed everything.”

“Oh.” As sad as she was to learn of her friend’s fate – as uncertain as it might be – Beakley’s immediate concern was for Gosalyn. “Thad was raising her after her parents died…” Another parallel in their lives neither of them would have wished for. “Where is she now?”

“She’s staying with Drake.” Launchpad perked back up, pointing to a smeared series of notes he’d made on his hand. “That’s what the uncle list is for! Like…if we were gonna fight weird stuff, we had to do it the proper way, and that was the only one I knew.”

Beakley smiled warmly. When they’d first gotten to know each other, she might have needed more explanation, but now she understood. He’d always be their Launchpad, but now he was the “uncle” of another, smaller family. And Drake, with as good-hearted as he was, would be a fine foster parent, but he was going to have his hands full with any child, much less one Gosalyn’s age. “Is there any chance your new family needs a grandmother on call?”

Launchpad’s eyes widened and he bounced forward to hug her enthusiastically. “Yeah, we do!” He cocked his head at her as he pulled back from the embrace. “Wait, does that make you my mom now?”

“If you like.” She might never admit it aloud, but she’d found herself feeling very maternal toward him and Drake since they’d started their Darkwing adventures; _someone_ needed to look out for them.

“Awesome! I have two moms now!” Launchpad returned to his haphazard packing system, which apparently included a handful of brightly-colored markers and a pair of fuzzy dice. “I’m leaving in, like, an hour, if you want to come. We’ll be back in the morning; I can sleep on the drive.”

Beakley considered it. Her training program was intended to coincide with the testing of Scrooge’s new security system, which wouldn’t be finished by morning. Donald probably wouldn’t mind making breakfast if she asked him, and she really did want to check up on both Drake and Gosalyn. Especially Gosalyn. And if she came along, Launchpad could sleep on the drive…while _she_ drove. “All right. Let me get some things together; I’ll meet you here in an hour.”

* * *

Despite the late hour, Gosalyn and Drake were still awake when Beakley and Launchpad arrived at the tower lair. It was impressive, Beakley had to admit, with all the gadgets from the show and more; Fenton was apparently responsible for those.

“Uncle Launchpad’s home!” Launchpad announced, bouncing out of the driver’s seat to hug them both. “Oh, and we needed a cool spy grandma, too, so I brought her.”

“Officially, I’m not a spy anymore.” Beakley glanced at Drake to make sure he was (mostly) uninjured, before moving to approach Gosalyn. She hadn’t seen the girl since she was a toddler, and she looked even more like her father now than she had then. “Hello, dear.”

Gosalyn waved. “Hi.” She squinted, scrutinizing Beakley. “Launchpad said you knew my grandpa?”

Beakley nodded. “Yes. I haven’t seen him in years, unfortunately, but he’s a good man. He loves you very much.”

The girl blushed, looking down at the floor briefly, but thankfully, it seemed to have the comforting effect Beakley had hoped. “Yeah…he’s the best.” She turned to glance at the large computer across the room for a moment. “I know the odds aren’t good of him coming back…like, way too low to be worth calculating, but…” She frowned as Beakley laughed. “What?”

“Oh, I’m not laughing at you.” Beakley smiled fondly. “It’s just that your grandfather used to say the same thing about the odds.”

That got a smile out of Gosalyn. “Guess I learned from the best.” She looked Beakley over again. “So…are you Dewey’s grandma, or…?”

Beakley supposed she was, more or less, at this point, but that wasn’t what Gosalyn was asking. “Technically, no. My granddaughter is Webby.”

“Oh, so _that’s_ who Webby is!” Gosalyn laughed. “Well…welcome to the fam.”

* * *

Gosalyn was a girl who probably considered herself too old for bedtime stories, but she was also a girl who needed to wind down and rest after all she’d been through. She’d allowed herself to be tucked in – even if she protested – and Beakley told her the (appropriately redacted) story of the Belgrade mission. Gosalyn blinked sleepily at her as the story ended. “Thanks…” she murmured, then frowned at Drake and Launchpad, who were talking on the couch. “Are they a couple, or…?”

Beakley chuckled. “I’m not sure they’re sure yet.” She brought the blanket up over Gosalyn’s shoulder, making sure she was settled before standing up. “Sleep well, dear.” She stayed nearby until she was confident Gosalyn was asleep – it didn’t take long – before moving to join Drake and Launchpad. She wasn’t sure what they’d been talking about – it wasn’t really her business – but she got a clue when Drake launched himself off the couch, taking her hands dramatically before he crumpled to the floor. He really _was_ an overgrown theatre kid sometimes, but she’d begun to see it as part of his charm. And it certainly suited the Darkwing persona. “Drake…?”

“You’ve got to help me!” he begged. “I don’t know anything about this, and I’m going to screw it up, and I _can’t_ screw it up, because it’s fine if I get _my_ ass kicked, but if she gets hurt, I can’t deal with that, and…”

“Whoa, there.” Beakley lifted him to his feet and set him back on the couch. He was being melodramatic, to be sure, but she understood his underlying fears all too well. “You’re going to be fine. I can teach you about parenting. I can teach you about espionage, and I can teach you how to fight. I cannot teach you how to care, and that’s the most important thing about having a child. You’ve already got that or you wouldn’t have taken her in and you wouldn’t be so worried about doing right by her.”

Drake nodded, sighing as he ran his hands over his face. “Yeah, but…I mean, she told me about her grandpa. He was so great. And I’m just…a guy in a cape who doesn’t know the first thing about having a kid.”

“None of us do, starting out.” Beakley shrugged. “You’ll make mistakes. So will she. You’ll learn together. And maybe what she needs right now _is_ a hero in a cape...” She glanced at Launchpad. “…and an ‘uncle’ who can help you both out. You can do this, and I’ll only be a phone call away if you need me.”

Launchpad was tearing up and he hugged her. “Thanks, Mrs. Mom.”

Beakley smiled as she returned the hug. As far as nicknames went…she didn’t hate it.

* * *


End file.
